Unforgettable
by Sunflowers In Moscow
Summary: 160 insights into the lives of our favourite nations. Warnings: humour, drama, romance, angst, and sheer embarrassment. Because the nations are human too, and they have human moments. Lots of them. All characters, and multiple pairings.
1. Chapter 1: 1 to 20

**_I don't own Hetalia_**

* * *

1) _Dahlia_

America held out the flower to his brother, watching as a tanned hand snatched it from his own. He grinned and chose to ignore the unintelligible mumbles coming from the Mexican, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He was on his back four seconds later, laughing as said Mexican stomped away.

Still holding his gift.

* * *

2) _Father_

England, as well as all his brothers, loved their mother dearly. They were, in all definitions, mummy's boys. They been raised solely by her, with the occasional input from other countries (namely Ancient Rome and France. The former hadn't around for long though; a pity the same could not be said of the frog), and England was of the firm belief that he could not have had a better childhood - when one ignored all the occupations of vikings and the bullying he received from his elder brothers.

However, as he watched a little girl run down the streets of Cornwall into a man's arms yelling 'daddy!', he wondered what it would have been like to have had a father.

* * *

3) _Ship_

Spain adored his ships; it was one of the many things he loved about being him. The access to the water, the freedom he was granted that so many other (landlocked) nations weren't. The smell of the sea air, the taste of salt on your lips, the brutal storms that left your life in the hands of mother nature. The ability to visit someone (Romano) without needing to designate and beg a route over land.

His heart raced, and the butterflies in his stomach when he thought of the ocean grew iron wings. This was his life, and it would last forever.

* * *

4) _Shrine_

Japan was not ashamed to admit he still prayed regularly to his nation's gods, specifically Fukurokuju, despite the fact less and less people did nowadays. He was determined never to lose his faith, and so he would not.

He swept away some of the leaves in his path, ensuring the place of worship in the middle of his garden was clear of debris, before carefully kneeling in front of it, clasping his hands together. Sometimes even immortal beings needed guidance.

* * *

5) _Whisky_

Scotland often believed that God had put alcohol on this earth simply so he could escape from his brothers' shenanigans, specifically England's. Right now, the daft sod was trying to regain his old colony, unable to see the boy was no longer a boy. At least he was getting a break from the smaller blond's pestering.

* * *

6) _Blouse_

Prussia hated them.

They made it so difficult to see the really important stuff, and he had often valiantly decided to take it into his own hands and remove the obstacle blinding his vision. It was his calling really, to do such a duty to mankind; he would do it with pride and honour - damn the consequences!

Hungary smashed her frying pan into Prussia's face with a heavy blush as he tried to pull open her shirt at the buttons. Stupid pervert.

* * *

7) _Friction_

Romano blushed as the heat on his back where the other man was touching him increased. A moan had to be suppressed when hips pushed against his own, and he wondered absent-mindedly as he ground back why he wasn't protesting this.

Then he remembered. That ass.

Hell yes.

* * *

8) _Jellyfish_

Portugal often wondered why the Portuguese man-of-war was named after him. After all, they weren't just found in his waters; he had heard from Northern Ireland that some of his people had been stung by one.

Some humans thought it was because the shape of the animal's floats looked like his soldiers' old helmets, but he didn't see the resemblance. Some others thought it was to do with the name of an English ship. Again, he really didn't get it.

Maybe it was something he should just leave alone. He was starting to get a sore head.

* * *

9) _Lead_

As he watched the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walk down the aisle towards him, his chest were heavy like metal, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat. She was so gorgeous he felt delirious that he was allowed to marry her, that he was _about _to marry her. To cherish her.

None of this showed on his face however, and as Hungary took his hand, she wondered with a lump in her throat if Austria was even capable of love.

* * *

10) _Mayonnaise _

Prussia hated them.

Eggs. Well, not the eggs themselves, but the fact that they were sold to be _eaten _was too much for him. His love for his beloved pet triumphed over any miniscule craving, so eggs were out of bounds. He could never even contemplate eating something that could be Gilbird's relative. It just wasn't even...

Therefore, he was totally justified in throwing that white gunk that West tried to pass off as _edible _back in his baby brother's face. Ignoring the outraged screech of an Italian in his ear.

* * *

11) _Rule_

England sighed. He ruled, didn't he? He set rules. Then why were his colonies so bloody useless at following them?

He winced as America and Australia ran screaming wild warrior cries at each other, and rubbed his temples wearily.

* * *

12) _Salmon_

Mmmmm. Japan licked his lips once he was certain he was alone, his pupils going wide as he inhaled that lovely smell and anticipated the fresh, salty taste.

Health was overrated.

* * *

13) _Blanket_

Finland used to hide under laundry. Long, long ago, he used to smother himself in the material, hoping to conceal himself from the taller blond who terrified him. A futile gesture, if Sweden had in fact wished to harm him, but it had made him feel better.

That had changed when one freezing night centuries ago he had felt the solemn man drape a thick cosy blanket over him. This was followed by the man's arm. After a few tense moments, Finland's heart finally settled, and he had a revelation. A revelation about many things, one that kept him up almost the whole night considering and reassembling things he thought he knew.

Finland now knew three things for certain.

One, that Sweden had no idea why he suddenly stopped being afraid of him.

Two, he loved that man, the one who loved him for so long, with all of his heart.

Three, that Sweden to this day believed that his Finn had been asleep the entire time, and had no idea what a wonderful thing his simple actions caused.

* * *

14) _Cupcake_

France stared at the innocent cake with a look so full of hatred it seemed ridiculous to point it at food. England sat on the other side of the table, his head in his hands, eagerly leaning towards the unfortunate taste-tester; oblivious to the snickering America who stood in the doorway to his kitchen.

"Go on! Taste it, it's got to be better now! I fixed the recipe!"

America's malicious laughter grew in volume, and he ignored the vicious glare he received from the suffering Frenchman.

France considered his situation with the air of a condemned man, and whimpered.

* * *

15) _Discovery_

Finland blinked in confusion at the tiny blond toddler who just ran into his legs, and wasn't able to regain his composure before the boy squealed and ran off. His first thought was that the kid is utterly adorable.

His next thought was 'what...?' and he hurried away to where England and France were. He needed to tell them about the child before someone snatched him up!

* * *

16) _Grandfather_

Veneziano wasn't ashamed like his brother to admit he wished his grandfather was still around almost daily. He missed the man's cheery smile, his never ending optimism; an optimism that was present even while the man was dying. He missed the support and protection his grandfather provided without him ever having to say a thing.

That wasn't to say he was without those things, of course. The smile could be filled by France, and the optimism by Spain. The support was filled reluctantly (not really) by his _fratello_, and the wordless protection by Germany. Veneziano smiled as he thought of all the people who filled the hole left in his heart left by the Empire's death.

He would never, ever be lonely. That was one promise made to him that had been kept no matter what, all though the ages.

He would never, ever again feel true sadness. That had only been broken once, a long time ago. A time he wished to forget.

Overall, he had had a life to be treasured, and Veneziano could honestly say he regretted and wanted for nothing.

He still missed his _nonno_, though.

* * *

17)_ Jar_

Sealand grunted as he strained his arm muscles to their limit, his face beginning to turn red. How on earth was it even possible to squeeze a Nutella jar closed so tight anyway? Shouldn't the plastic lid break under the pressure? The more he thought about it, the more he became angry. He just _knew _that jerk England had done this on purpose, to keep Sealand out of his chocolate spread. Eyebrows was such a... JERK!

He was concentrating so hard on his effort, that he didn't hear the neat, orderly footsteps behind him. The tap on his shoulder got his attention, though.

"What's this, brat? You can't get in? What a pity."

He turned around and scowled at his arch-nemesis, glaring at the smug looking man. The staring contest soon became intense, and Sealand was trying so hard to win over England and open the spread at the same time that he didn't notice the taller blond peaking curiously over England's shoulder as he walked closer.

Surveying the situation, it all became clear in America's mind.

Sealand was yanked into reality when the tub vanished and reappeared lidless in his hands, the voice of his new hero sounding in his ears; forever imprinting itself in his mind.

"Don't be an ass Iggy, let the kid have some chocolate!"

* * *

18) _Pansy_

No matter how lovely the flower was, England did not appreciate his brothers comparing him to one.

* * *

19)_ Spoon_

Russia often wondered how no matter what he did, his little Baltics were still always so afraid of him.

He tried to be nicer and friendlier to them, smiling whenever they passed. But for some reason, they just ran away faster.

He tried to stop drinking vodka; maybe his occasional drunkness spooked them. However, they also seemed scared when he was sober - and to be fair, this was _vodka _he was talking about giving up. Maybe not.

He tried to stop carrying around his pickaxe; perhaps the sharp edge was the reason. His lead pipe became his new go to object, but it didn't seem to make any difference whatsoever.

It was only when he began to carry around blunt cutlery with absolutely no change in their moods that he decided they were simply frightened people in general. Or maybe it was him personally.

... Probably the former.

* * *

20) _Tabletop__  
_

Belgium often mused over things while her brother went off on his many 'my innocent little sister' rants. They had gotten tiring very quickly, and had become extremely repetitive. It had gotten to the stage where she needed something to think on to remain awake; if she dozed off, she would receive an even longer lecture later on. This she knew from experience.

Today the topic was tables. They had many uses, and the more she thought about it, the more she could list.

They could be used for eating off of, of course. They could be used to perform tasks on, like arts and crafts, designing things, drawing, painting, writing. They could be used to hold things, like ornaments or coffee cups - or as a temporary surface, like if one was moving many things and needed a place to put it. If they were low, they could be used as a makeshift bed, and if one could jump, they could be used as a seat as well.

Belgium blushed slightly as her mind slowly descended into the gutter. They could also be used as a surface on which to... you know...

Like that one time - well, that one _night_ - with Spain... Now _that _had been fun...

She blushed again but trailed off at the look of sheer horror that had erupted on her usually mellow but irritated elder brother's face.

She let out a gasp when she realised she had been talking aloud.

* * *

**That was great to write! I'm thinking of doing more, since these were so much fun!**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**

**x**


	2. Chapter 2: 21 to 40

**_I don't own Hetalia_**

* * *

21) _Camera_

Hungary wondered occasionally if perhaps her extracurricular activities were slightly... creepy. After all, they weren't exactly legal, and she was pretty sure her targets didn't enjoy the attention. It had been suggested by her husband that she should probably halt in her missions and she had seriously considered it; since Austria only interfered with things that were worth his notice. Her life would become more dull, but maybe it was for the best.

*Click*

"Hungary, you pervert! Get lost!"

She cackled.

Nah.

* * *

22) _Europe_

It was a rare moment when Norway or any of his companions actually felt like they were part of Europe.

Being so far north he was certain had something to do with it. It sometimes felt like they were their own little continent; just him, Denmark, Sweden and Finland.

Scandinavia. It would be nice. They would be acknowledged and that was good, because more and more people seemed to forget about them, the most northern nations. The remnants of what was once a bloodthirsty land full of warriors who conquered most of the Northern Hemisphere. Reduced to being sometimes remembered; their thriving economies did nothing to attract anyone's gaze either. Not that being healthy was a bad thing.

Sometimes he missed the spotlight. But sometimes he understood why and accepted it. He and the other blond Scandinavians had absolutely nothing in common with warmer countries like Spain and Greece. They would stick out amongst them; the cultures and land too different to create lasting friendships.

Perhaps it was best to remain alone together in the cold.

* * *

23) _Helen_

Greece remembered meeting her once as a child holding his mother's hand.

The woman whose face launched a thousand ships.

He remembered thinking she was exceptionally beautiful, but not understanding why there was such a big war over one woman. The cost of so many lives for the price of one.

He had asked his mother and she had laughed lightly, before whispering her answer in his ear.

_"That's love, manari mou."_

Now, looking back, he still doesn't really get it.

But he remembers one more thing, the look of perfect joy on Paris' face, the look of a man who was complete because of the woman standing before him.

And he remembers wishing he could have a Helen too.

* * *

24) _Tank_

The word 'tank' has many connotations for Germany.

It was the weapon the Allies tried and failed to use against him in World War One.

It was the weapon the Allies tried and succeeded to use against him in World War Two, a favour he quickly returned.

He doesn't blush when these are mentioned.

"Doitsu's built like a tank!"

However, he does blush when Veneziano runs a finger down his bare chest and giggles out _that_.

* * *

25) _Punishment_

Is it wrong to love being punished?

Because while America hates it when his boss pushes on the extra paperwork, he loves it when England breaks out the ropes.

"Are you listening to me, America?"

"No."

"Pity. For you."

_Oh, Iggy. Trust me, it's really not._

* * *

26) _Divorced_

Hungary and Austria were no longer married, it was as simply as that.

However, Erzsébet and Roderich still were.

* * *

27) _Female_

As Poland walked along the catwalk, all eyes on him, a mortified Lithuania wondered why God had gone wrong and made his friend a man.

He looked up and seeing how seamless the blond fitted into the miniskirt and trotted in the hooker heels - made his decision.

Damn his dislike of interfering; he was going to see England in the morning.

* * *

28) _Session_

Russia hated these appointments with that patronising woman.

"Now, Ivan," - who gave her permission to call him that? - "I thought we could talk about _your _problems today."

He fisted his right hand.

- Russia didn't _have_ any problems.

"Come on now don't be shy. Talk about why you scare off your friends, perhaps. Don't you like them?"

- He _didn't _scare them off. They all seemed to run away for no reason. And he liked them. They just ran away all the time.

"Ok then, maybe not that today. How about why you like... hurting things then?"

- He didn't like hurting things. He liked hurting people. There was a difference. And the more irritated that person had made him, the more he hurt them. It was a very simple process. And a good stress reliever. Why do you think he smiled all the time? Perhaps he should recommend it to Germany - he never seemed happy...

"Not that either. Hmmm... how about why you don't seem to get on with your sister?"

- Who, Ukraine? He liked Ukraine... she just avoided him... Oh, Belarus! Stupid psychiatrist lady. Wasn't it self-explanatory?

- Belarus was insane and wanted to marry him. And she was his little _sister_. Who carried _knives._

_- Belarus was scary._

Russia clenched his fist tighter.

"We have to talk about _something_, Ivan!"

Russia's right eye began to twitch.

- She shouldn't be calling him that.

"How about that _awful _alcohol addiction? Have you tried pouring all the bottles down the sink like I told you to? I hope you did, because the only way you're going to beat it is if you-"

She gasped in shock and terror as he laid his lead pipe on the table with a happy smile and a childish giggle.

"But vodka is good, da?"

* * *

29) _Balloon_

Sealand had to admit he was shocked when he had gone back home and found Union Jack decorated balloon tied to his door handle, thoroughly confusing his boss as to how it got there, since he had been there the whole time.

He was even more shocked when he saw the stamp of Buckingham Palace on the bottom. There was only one person who could possibly have given him this.

Sealand suspicions were confirmed when England avoided him during the next World Meeting he crashed, and didn't try to squirm out of the hug the young boy gifted him.

England could be a pretty cool guy sometimes.

But he was still a jerk.

* * *

30) _Bucket_

Perhaps it didn't make him a very good _fratello_, but Veneziano was just being _so irritating_.

So when Romano slammed a bucket over his _fratellino's _head and rapped it with a crowbar, he didn't feel guilty.

Even when he heard the boy's pathetic whines of pain.

'Cause he was badass like that.

... Okay, maybe a little.

That didn't mean the dumbass didn't deserve it though.

NO ONE needs to know the kinky crap the damn kraut thought he could do with his whip.

_Ugh, mental images._

Romano gave an extra whack for good measure.

* * *

31) _Exchange_

"Uh, I'm not my fratello, Germany."

"Uh, I'm not Germany, Vene."

Then, they realise. Veneziano screams as Spain jumps off him, also screaming.

They arrive at the other house just in time to hear a conversation, one they were trying at all costs to prevent.

"Why are you swearing so much, Vene? You sound like your brother."

"... POTATO BASTARD?"

They burst in as Germany lands on the floor, clutching his crotch.

* * *

32) _Poison_

France coughed as he attempted to swallow a bite of the small cake, tears forming in his eyes.

Tears were also forming in America's eyes as he rolled around on the floor, laughing so much he was starting to choke.

England's head hit the table.

* * *

33) _Taurus_

Éire's favourite way to celebrate her birthday (being independent from her brothers) was to get completely pissed on good cider.

It was a well-worn route, but it never lost its appeal.

* * *

34) _Bedroom_

When England asked France an innocent question of where his favourite place was, he was expecting an innocent answer.

How stupid of him.

* * *

35) _Perfume_

Hungary sat rather sadly on the bench in the garden, trying to move past the foolish sadness she was feeling. It was silly, feeling upset that Austria hadn't recognised that she was wearing a new scent. She had even given him a hug, and no reaction. It wasn't as if it was _important_, but it would have been nice if he had noticed.

She felt slightly hurt. He never seemed to notice anything about her nowadays.

She was just about to allow herself some time to mope on her situation a little more, when she noticed a certain silver head crawling along the property line towards the house. She narrowed her eyes and began to in turn creep up on the creeper, pulling out her frying pan silently. Not on her watch, not again. He just never quit.

Soon, she was just two feet behind him, and with a wild roar, leapt on him. She swung her pan into the side of his head, and could obviously see she had caught him by surprise. They rolled on the ground and she ended up on top. He began groaning in pain as she sat on his hips, waving her weapon victoriously in the air.

"Stupid Prussia! How many times do I have to tell you, you are NOT getting anywhere _near _our house!"

He groaned again before peeking warily through previously closed eyes. "Hasn't stopped me before, evil wom-"

Suddenly he stopped, and took a deep breath. Then he did it again. Hungary looked down on him with a confused face, wondering just what the idiot was up to now.

And again.

Hungary gave a dramatic sigh. It was probably just a ploy to escape. "What's wrong now?"

"You smell different."

She stopped the condescending reply that was automatically on her lips, and found herself unable to form words.

"W-what?"

She didn't move as he gently pushed her off him, blushing slightly at their position. He stood up, and rubbed the back of his head. He smiled down at her awkwardly.

"It-it's nice."

She watched him suddenly stride away from her with red cheeks, trying to process what had just happened.

She remained on her place on the ground in shock, not understanding how he had noticed when Austria, her _husband_, hadn't.

And why she had a tiny smile on her face.

* * *

36) _Gun__  
_

France gave a frightened squeal as the muzzle of a shotgun was pushed to his forehead.

This was the last time he was saying hello to a little blonde girl.

... Why did no one trust him?

* * *

37) _Noodle_

China looked into the teasing violet eyes gazing into his own. He silently pulled the thin strand into his mouth, careful to lick the (for once) ungloved fingers that had been holding it - never breaking eye contact the entire time.

A smirk donned his lips at the breathy gasp he received.

* * *

38) _Saw_

Had America ever mentioned that Canada could be _evil_ sometimes?

Never again was he taking the quiet nation's word about movies and TV again, he was such a liar; by God, it was SO not animated!

Canada suppressed a grin at America's whimper. Revenge.

Those hockey skates had cost him a lot of money.

* * *

39) _Alibi_

The Bad Touch Trio sat side by side, faces downtrodden. True, graffiti wasn't the worst thing they had ever done, but they hadn't meant to be caught!

Suddenly, the cell door opened, and the three faces of their saviours appeared.

"Yeah, the bastard was with me." The policeman waved a hand, and Spain rushed out the door to give Romano a hug (kiss). They left immediately.

"Yes, he was at my house, irritating my husband." The policeman waved again, and Prussia ran out, sweeping Hungary up in a hug and pecking her cheek. Before she could clock him around the head in embarrassment, he vanished. She grumbled and left too.

France looked up again in hope, and almost sunk into the ground at the vengeful expression on England's face.

"No, I can assure you, he bloody well _wasn't_ with me. He must have been at the crime scene, officer."

France slumped back in the seat and mumbled as England let out a malicious laugh.

_"Connard."_

"WHAT WAS THAT FROG?"

* * *

40) _Rest_

Today's training session had been very hard, and even Germany was exhausted - something that happened very rarely around the small brunet. He had been walking dazedly through the house on his way to bed, when he had seen his lover lying dozing on the sofa.

Now that was just an invitation he couldn't ignore.

Veneziano lay back into the warm chest contently, listening with tired amusement at the blond man's quiet sleep-whispering. Although he heard it often, it was nice to know Germany loved him even when he was unconscious. Suddenly, thick arms wrapped around his body, and a low murmur filled his ears.

"_Ich liebe dich."_

He gave a small, joyful smile, and snuggled in further, before whispering back.

_"Ti amo."_

* * *

**Again, brilliant fun to write! Please review, I appreciate them a lot!**


	3. Chapter 3: 41 to 60

**_I don't own Hetalia_**

* * *

41) _Fat_

America hated the word.

He hated the way it made his shoulders slump slightly. He hated the way it made him push away his slushies and his burgers. He hated the way it made him poke at his mostly naked body as he looked in the mirror.

But he didn't hate it as much when England wrapped his arms around him, and rested a head on his shoulder.

"Idiot. You're bloody gorgeous."

* * *

42) _Weapon_

The word 'weapon' has many connotations for Germany.

It was something he needed desperately for so many years.

It was something he carried around even now on his person in the shape of a handgun.

It was something he had trained himself to use perfectly, despite any distractions.

He doesn't blush when these are mentioned.

"Doitsu, that's quite a weapon you have there!"

However, he does blush when Veneziano grabs the front of his trousers and calls out _that_.

In front of his older brother.

Prussia will never let him live it down.

* * *

43) _Ambulance_

Russia didn't think he had hit her that hard.

Oops.

* * *

44) _Reindeer _

Sweden watched from the shadows as his little wife crept into the barn with a bucket full of carrots, attempting to hide himself in the dark. Sweden suppressed an amused snort.

Finn could be so funny when he tried to sneak around. It wasn't as if Sweden minded that the small blond liked to treat his pets, and he would even join him if Finn wanted him too.

But Finn seemed to want to be alone, so Sweden humoured him. Occasional nights he would slip out of bed quietly, trying not to wake Sweden up. Sweden knew the moment Finn moved, but he pretended to still be asleep. When his wife was gone, he would follow behind silently and lean against the wall of the barn to watch him feed the animals.

It wasn't that he didn't trust him.

He just loved to watch Finn, and those nights were no exception.

* * *

45) _Sister_

Ukraine took her role very seriously.

She hated the fact she was stopped from seeing her brother, and in turn her sister. It made her feel like a bad _sestra_, and she felt almost frustrated at the fact she couldn't help them. She didn't care that she wasn't rich, or that she owed her brother money, or that being cut off from them meant she had made friends with the rest of the world.

She was their elder sister, and for a while, had practically been their mother. She would rather be lonely and poor with her family than rich and even lonelier without them.

That's why it didn't matter to her that she had been forbidden by her boss to see them.

She gently pushed the sweaty strands of silver hair out of his face, smiling fondly when his nose stopped twitching. The younger girl whose hair it was had wrapped her arms possessively around the larger man's body, burying her head in his chest. Belarus suddenly shifted, and Russia subconsciously moved to accommodate her without pushing her away. His arms were now returning the sleep hug, and he had tucked her head under his chin.

Ukraine folded up the scarf she had previously confiscated and mended before laying it down on the dresser. They would know she had been here. She pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads, and went to leave. She stopped at the door for a moment.

She looked back and couldn't stop a sniff at the scene, at the irrefutable evidence that although they had differences, her siblings still loved one another. Just as she loved them, with all her heart.

* * *

46) _Vietnam_

As she glared at him, America wondered if he might have been wrong.

* * *

47) _Hovercraft_

"No, Feliks, you would need a lot more than ONE to lift your whole body up."

"But Liet- are you sure? We could like, get an ultra-powerful one!"

"No."

* * *

48) _Korean_

It was a source of extreme irritation amongst all the nations when Korea began to claim things as made by him. Today was no exception.

"Hot dogs are for heroes-"

"Hot dogs were made in Korea!"

"My escargot iz ze best food-"

"Invented in Korea!"

"Wurst iz better zan apfelstrudel, stupid aristocrat-"

"Both were created in Korea!"

However, any attempt to catch him out was for nought, and most nations just tried to ignore him and move on.

"_My_ scones are the best, and nobody can deny it!"

"... Yuck. Definitely _not _made in Korea, da-ze."

* * *

49) _Carnation_

Spain swallowed heavily.

He must be dreaming.

There was no way Romano was leaning against his bedroom door frame wearing nothing but a pair of tight dark jeans with _his_ national flower between his teeth.

Did the Italian even know what that _meant_?

Spain swallowed again as he saw a flash of tongue behind the green stem, and knew his eyes were probably wide open.

_Dios_. How was a man supposed to cope with this? That was teasing. Like window shopping. Completely unsatisfying, and only increases your thirst. He was torn between weeping and jumping the younger man.

His eyes drank in the delicious sight, trailing over the tanned skin defined with lean muscles as a deep husky voice pierced the silence. The younger man uncrossed his arms, allowed for a full view of his torso.

"See something you like... _Jefe __España_?"

Spain shivered as his old name was drawled out in a delectable Italian accent. The implications of a grown-up Romano calling him boss once more was too much for the older man's tortured mind. A barely audible whimper escaped, but the other man heard it.

"Lovi..."

Romano smirked.

* * *

50) _Potato_

Romano didn't think he would ever be able to hear that word without scowling.

And he had valid reasons.

One: he didn't like potatoes. He didn't like the taste or the texture, whether they are boiled, mashed, roasted, baked - whatever. They were gross, and Romano wasn't changing his mind any time soon.

Two: potato-bastard number two. The dumbass pervert who irritated him more than anyone, save Vene, that grabby-frog France and _Spagna_. He looked at Vene with a creepy look, and Romano could swear it had been directed at him once or twice. It had been one of the times he had been grateful for the tomato-bastard's possessive glare.

Three: potato-bastard number one. That... that... _kraut _stole his little brother's innocence. He brainwashed Vene into an obsessed freak! And he likes using whips! And he just... was so infuriating! Romano hated him!

See.

Spain winced at the fierce glower on his lover's face, and wondered what he had done now.

* * *

51) _Profit__  
_

Switzerland hated to accept the fact that eating with Austria and Liechtenstein was better than eating with just his little sister alone.

J-just because it was cheaper!

It wasn't as if he actually enjoyed himself.

... okay, maybe a little. A tiny bit.

Not that he would ever let Austria know that.

* * *

52) _Cathedral_

Veneziano looked around in amazement, this magnificent place of worship always left him in awe, no matter how many times he had been here, no matter how many other beautiful buildings he had been to.

He could feel his faith rise up in him like a tidal wave, drowning his insecurities and doubts in a miasma of familial adoration and acceptance.

Only his feelings for Germany remained untouched.

Veneziano wondered idly if that was because of their strength, or because of God's opinion on such love between men.

* * *

53) _Twilight_

Hungary looked at the Guy with some admiration; Europe really had pulled out all the stops this year. The celebration on November the Fifth had been adopted by all the nations in Europe from England, and they enjoyed creating and burning the Guy immensely, followed by an outrageous firework display designed by China himself.

The Guy was huge, over twenty feet tall, and twelve feet wide. As she looked closer, she smiled as she saw the different things people had put on. The old mahogany furniture, that was clearly England. The beech planks were obviously Sweden, and she could see all her old dresses that no longer fitted her sewn together to create clothing.

However, something caught her eye and she looked up - before bursting into laughter.

Forming the nose of the Guy, was a certain book by Stephenie Meyer.

"I hope you don't expect me to act like ze _boy_ in zat... zing, Erzsébet." A dangerous voice slid into her ear, but despite his sudden appearance, she wasn't frightened.

"Oh," she mocked, "didn't you like it, Dumitru? I leant it to you because I thought you might be able to relate."

She heard him scoff, and some of his strawberry blond hair appeared in her vision. She turned her head to the left, and found herself staring into bright red eyes. Unlike that idiot Prussia, these orbs seemed to draw her in, and she felt herself melting into his taller form which was now pressed against her back.

"Hm, I should zink not. I found the book on a whole to be voefully..."

His nose trailed a path from her chin to her left temple, leaving her speechless. When his teeth pressed themselves gently to the delicate skin of her neck, she sucked in a deep breath and her eyelids fluttered shut. The colour in his irises flashed as he whispered against her pulse.

"Inaccurate."

* * *

54) _Shoe_

Japan wasn't sure how to explain his abrupt giggling to the people around him.

When he saw Romano suddenly remove his sandal and begin to bash Spain's head in, all he could see was a certain scene in one of his favourite manga/anime.

However, he wasn't sure how to deal with the questioning and shocked looks without seeming like one of those rabid fans, so he remained quiet and turned red.

A couple of minutes later when all of the attention was turned back to a different topic, someone sat next to him. Too deep in his embarrassment, Japan didn't acknowledge them until they began to talk.

"They act like Hiyori and Shinji out of Bleach, don't they? I always thought there was repressed sexual tension there."

Japan turned his head in surprise, and New Zealand smiled back, before shaking her short blonde hair which had begun to stick to her skin in the heat.

She shrugged. "Yeah, I'm an otaku. So sue me."

A small quirk of the lips New Zealand took to be a smile appeared on Japan's face, and he paused before taking a deep breath.

"That may be, New Zealand-san, but I always found there to be more between Ichigo and Rukia."

New Zealand grinned, before throwing her arm around his shoulders.

"Call me Abbey, Kiku. I've a feeling we're gonna be here for a while."

* * *

55)_ Week_

Most people hated Monday, because they lost the freedom of the weekend and had to return back to the world of work.

Some people hated Wednesday, because it was still the middle of the week, and the enjoyment of the weekend both past and future was distant.

Other people hated Saturday, especially if they valued their time at work. The break with nothing productive to do was a frustrating one.

Then people hated Friday, as it always seemed to drag on, and it was a precursor to a lack of work.

Sunday was hated by some also, because it was the end of the weekend and relaxation, and preparations for the morrow had to begin.

Tuesday was also hated as it felt as if the week had just begun, and one had ever so long to wait.

However Russia, out of the whole week, hated Thursday the most. It was the day that dragged on the most, and never seemed to pass.

It was also the day on which he knew, so long ago, that the uneasy status quo in which he had been living was no longer acceptable.

It was the day on which history was forever changed; with no way back.

* * *

56) _Underwear_

Korea knew the moment in which Taiwan stopped wearing a bra, and to be honest, he rather liked it.

And judging by her smug smirk, so did she.

* * *

57) _Nephew_

"So-so, y-you're my nie-seee? B-because yoo-u're Eng-Engl-Iggy's brat!" Éire slurred as she waved her bottle of whisky around, ignoring Scotland's cackle at her behaviour. He couldn't be laughing at her; it was an valid question.

"Uh, no- not exactly, you see I'm a b-"

"Beautiful lasssssie!" She began to sing it over and over, not noticing the child sitting in front of her frowning at the volume.

A tall redhead came up behind the kid, and smiled in his ear.

"She's usually like this! I bet ye did'na think onybody could top the pansy, right? Ye'd be wrang. Iggy's a lightweight!" Scotland laughed again, clapping the boy on the shoulder, and walked away to find the rum before England drank it all.

Sealand's eyebrow rose as he looked over the intoxicated woman in front of him, who was on the verge of tipping off the barstool if it hadn't been for her Northern twin leaning into her - as they both sung 'beautiful lassie' in perfect harmony.

This was the last time he went out with his older (siblings? Aunt, uncles and father? He really had no idea). They were insane.

His gaze turned to the half pint of lager lying abandoned on the bar, and scrunched up his face.

He was never drinking alcohol either.

* * *

58) _Archeology_

One of Turkey's favourite things to do - apart from actively trying to drive Greece up a wall, of course - was to watch the man stutter and pause as he tried to pretend he didn't know anything about the structures he and his human team were digging up.

It was hilarious to watch the Greek's eye twitch as he tried to stop himself screaming at the clueless professors that they were _wrong_.

Ah. Sometimes it was best to sit back and let others do the hard work.

Remembering to bring the popcorn just made it perfect.

* * *

59)_ Rhythm_

Seychelles swayed her hips to the beat, her hands waving above her head with a happy smile on her face. She laughed as two other dancing women bumped into her, and greeted them before moving on.

She was completely unaware of the entranced blue eyes that watched her with something akin to adoration; eyes that lit up as her gaze brushed over where he was standing.

His chance was coming, and as she spun near him, he contemplated reaching out to caress her bare shoulder.

But the moment passed, she twisted away joyfully, and her admirer remained wistfully anonymous.

* * *

60) _Blood_

Because no matter how many times he attacked them, no matter how many times he conquered them, no matter how many times he hated them, and no matter how many times he forced them to return the favour -

He was their brother, and their brother he would remain.

And no one hurt their family.

* * *

**I don't think I'm ever going to tire of making these.**

**So far, tell me what you all think; I only have one review! I know there are more of you out there!**

**What was your favourites, from 1 to 60? **

**Did any confuse you? What ones didn't you like? Any general questions?**

**Please review, people!**


	4. Chapter 4: 61 to 80

**_I don't own Hetalia_**

* * *

61) _Quay_

He stood to the very edge of the wet wood, his toes peeking into empty space. His eyes were watering and his arms were open wide, embracing the howling air.

If he squinted, he could still see the huge vessel that had once docked here, the men rushed back and forth aboard it - a younger version of himself hanging proudly from the mast, his hungry gaze on the never-ending horizon.

Then he wiped his eyes and went inside for a cup of tea to warm himself up.

After all, it didn't no good for a gentlemen to dwell on pointless memories.

* * *

62) _Debtor_

As Spain watched his younger lover slip on the newest Armani blazer and hide a handgun in the waistband of his trousers, he sighed in contemplation.

The door slammed shut and Spain let himself flop back into bed, savouring the goodnight kiss he had received because that was all the action he was going to get tonight.

He sighed again, and allowed himself to wonder, probably rather selfishly, how bad it really was to owe the Sicilian Mafia money.

Especially when you would have _that _sexy Italian coming after you.

But you probably weren't thinking about how handsome your creditor was when you had a loaded gun to your forehead.

* * *

63) _Metric_

America let out a scream in frustration, causing his boss (who had been immersed in important paperwork to do with the current situation in Russia - the commie had finally caved!) to jump out of his chair.

What in the hell was a kilometre?

He scanned down the page some more, and pouted when he saw the rest of the questions England had set him. Litres, centimetres, kilograms!

America just knew the shorter blond had lied when he said these were primary school questions.

He didn't know any kid who could possibly do these.

* * *

64) _Dare_

India couldn't believe he was being lowered to this.

After all that time campaigning and protesting against the rule of the British Empire, here he was doing exactly what the - this time, slightly drunk - short blond said! It was unacceptable!

He scolded himself in his mind as his fist slammed down on his desk. He could not take this any longer! He didn't care if he was labelled as chicken, this was demeaning and more than a bit racist!

Once his shift was over, he was going to march up to that damned Brit and punch him, just like he has always wanted to do. And nothing would stop-

"Hey, you! Back to work!" The shout pushed him out of his daydream where he was jumping on top of a miniature version of England, laughing at the man's squeals of pain.

"Uh, uh, yes!" He stuttered back to the angry man who stood above him - he choked it out - his _boss_.

He sneered in disgust at the object in his hands, and hesitantly slid it on his head.

A tinny foreign voice resounded in his ear, and he took a deep breath to calm himself before slowly repeating the memorised phrase.

"Hello, and welcome to IChem's telephone customer helpline. How may I help you?"

* * *

65) _Organisation_

"I now call this meeting to order!" England calls imperiously, raising his hand in the air. The atmosphere is tense, the three cloaked figures standing in a triangle only emphasising the sense of mysteriousness.

The silence continues, and England coughs.

"Anyway..." He pauses, before the room lightens as he snaps his fingers. The many candles burst into life, revealing a large cushion at the feet of each person.

A smile grows on his face. Almost in unison, they pull off their cloaks and lay them to the side of the fire (how England had managed to build an open fire in his basement was a puzzle to all, especially America). They all then sit down on the cushions comfortably, with practice.

England looks around at the other blonds in question, now easily able to see their individual features.

"How have you all been?" Norway is the first to answer, scoffing almost immediately.

"I have been well, Arthur, unless you count being mauled by a _fleskepanne_!" He ends with a snap.

A cackle echoes, and both turn to Romania, one angrily and one curiously.

"Vat do you vant ze man to do, Nikolas?" Romania continues to snigger, ignoring the deathly glare he is being sent. "You vant him, zen you don't. You vant him, zen you don't. I feel sorry for him, as he must have quite ze case of blue-"

"Alright that's enough!" England intervenes, desperate to stop the first meeting in a month from ending in bloodshed within minutes. It had happened before.

Norway snorts and folds his arms, looking away. England then turns decidedly to Romania.

"How are you coping, Dumitru?"

The strawberry blond freezes for a moment. He then looks away, and mumbles.

"Fine."

England knows the signs, and frowns. "Dumitru..."

The usually humorous blond refuses to look him in the eye. "_Fine!_"

Norway abruptly slams his fist down on the concrete floor, his magically increased strength causing a large bang to erupt, instead of the muted thud it should have been.

His voice returns to its quiet murmur as he speaks. "Human or nation?"

Romania looks down, suddenly feeling the shame he had been suppressing. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered him, but these were his closest friends (shows how sad his social life is, doesn't it?). His guilt was also beginning to swallow him, the condition he had left her in, no matter how willing - oh, she knew. She had always know, the first to know, and the first to accept it - she had been that night, was horrific. She had been sleeping when he slipped into the night, unable to look at her. It didn't matter if she was alright with it, he should never have let loose. She deserved better, so much better than him - a man who was slave to his basic instincts. Who couldn't even control himself around the woman he knew he loved.

"... Nation." Both other men suck in a surprised breath at this, and exchange an unreadable look with each other, one Romania doesn't see. This was an odd turn of events. Never before had they had to deal with Romania biting a _nation_. Really, all they had to concern themselves with was the humans the blond had a habit of sucking dry - and ensuring he had disposed of the bodies correctly (read: secretly).

They only asked 'nation' out of the need to cover all the possible bases. Because out of all the nations - as far as they knew - they were the only ones who knew of Romania's little drinking problem (as they referred to it in public). Having experience in dealing with mystical creatures, they were the only ones who could truly understand and help him.

And he had kept to himself well, only interacting with people when necessary, so he had been gradually gaining good control. Norway and England had been optimistic that he would be completely safe by the end of the next thirty years (they had only found out around a century ago; and it was a slow process). That he would be able to hide it without suspicion.

But now, things had changed. Nations couldn't be killed, which meant they could heal, which meant they could talk.

England was the one who asked.

"Who?"

"I didn't mean it!"

"WHO?"

* * *

66) _Prison_

It didn't matter how many times Russia gave Lithuania tours of his country in an attempt at an apology, he would always freeze when they came to the gulag.

Some things weren't so easily forgotten.

And some things could never be forgiven.

* * *

67)_ Diamond_

She stood in front of the huge gilded mirror in nothing but her underwear, her auburn hair flowing unhindered down her back. She had ordered the maids to leave her, to allow her some time. Time.

Sometime she knew she no longer had. Within the hour, she would be queen, and it was truly terrifying.

There was no one she could honestly confide in but one, and she supposed she was allowed to feel slightly desolate. She would become the most powerful person in the country, and one of the most powerful in the world. She would be the monarch, and her country would be relying on her.

She would have the weight of the world on her shoulders, and the responsibility was hanging over her head ominously, like it was waiting for a moment to fall and suffocate her.

She blinked in an attempt to clear her blurry eyes, and her hand rose shakily to brush over the heavy jewels around her neck. The shining gold stood out against her milky skin, the white gems glistening, and she wondered if the crown would feel just as weighty.

"You look beautiful."

She gasped, and spun around, attempting to find something to cover herself with. Her calves and arms were showing; it was positively indecent. She saw an outdoor cloak that had been thrown haphazardly over a chair and wrapped it around herself tightly.

"That may be, my lord, but it is not beauty I fixate on at the current time."

He ignored her flustered countenance, and walked slowly forward. She took a few steps back before her back was pressed against the mirror, and he stopped around two hand breadths from her. She looked up, and was immediately trapped by such an unnatural yet, _natural _shade of green - reminiscent of the stones in her favourite earrings.

"Then, my queen, what concerns you so?" His breath ran along her face, and she tried to suppress the faint flush of red that sprung up on her cheeks.

"Please refrain from calling me such, for I am not queen yet."

He bowed his head, conceding to her wish. "Forgive me, my princess, but the question remains."

She inhaled as deep and she could, and let all the air out slowly through her nose. Then, she spun to face the looking glass, her arms still clutching the thick protective fabric; she sighed when he walked closer to push against her back, and she had to stop herself from leaning against his welcoming form.

She stared into the eyes of her reflection, fully aware of his intense gaze over her shoulder. Whereas she had been wary when he came in, such petty feelings had vanished, leaving behind only her previous thoughts and the warmth at the presence of a very old friend.

"What concerns me, you ask?" She tried to tease him as she always did, but the phrase came out wrong, the words wavering.

"Yes, what concerns you? You are my lady princess as well as my soon-to-be monarch and queen; but above all, you are my friend. Please, elaborate on your worries."

She looked up at his reflection in the mirror, and he nodded encouragingly. She blinked and seconds passed.

"Duty."

She needed to say nothing more, as he understood. He had stood by her since she was an infant, and knew from experience gained through years in her company exactly what she meant. And he knew how to console her. Not completely, but enough that she felt she could manage the coronation.

"Beth... when I called you beautiful, I was not referring to your admittedly exceptional physical stature."

She frowned in confusion, silently asking him to continue - not out of vanity, but a need to understand his words.

"I was referring to the woman I see inside you everyday, the woman I saw in you as a young girl of five who fell out of the carriage without a single whimper of pain. You are very stubborn and opinionated, something many men in our court resent, but something I welcome. You will lead this land into a time unknown, a time good or bad, I don't know. Because I don't know how you will rule, whether you will be a brilliant leader or a terrible one; that is entirely up to you. And I will support you as long as what you do is the best for our people."

He paused for a moment, before turning her around gently and cupping her face in his hands. They looked into each other's eyes, and England tried to project belief and trust into her frightened gaze.

"But I know one thing. Whatever you choose to do, however you choose to do it-"

A wide, determined smile broke out on his face and she followed suit unconsciously, mesmerising by both his influence and the confidence he seemed to have in her.

"You will be great."

And in all the future years up until her death, Elizabeth never dared to prove him wrong.

* * *

68)_ Sky_

America sometimes caught Tony lying on the grass looking up at the clouds.

When he asked if the alien ever missed home, it was the only time he couldn't understand him.

* * *

69) _Zephyr_

Japan watches with awe as Greece stands on the top of the cliff, his arms spread out.

He was leaning into the fierce wind that was knocking Japan off his feet, causing him to hold onto a tree in an effort to remain vertical.

The man's loose shirt whips around, but his tight jeans remain unmoved. The rainless storm roars, and the sound echoes in Japan's ears, like the rage of a god.

His eyes begin to water, and his vision is blurred. For a moment, he looses sight of Greece and panics. However, wiping the tears from his face, he realises the man hasn't moved, keeping perfect balance in the rushing gale.

Japan wonders if he has ever seen anything so entrancing.

Or beautiful.

* * *

70)_ Fruit_

"... Would you like a date?"

Austria almost spat out his tea, before feeling like a fool when he saw the box of fruits in Prussia's hand. He straightened his glasses which had gone askew and sniffed.

"No, thank you." Honestly, how many times would Austria humiliate himself like this? It needed to stop, he thought, as he took another sip of tea.

He didn't see Prussia's grin.

"Would you like to _go _on a date?"

This time he really did lose his tea.

* * *

71) _Region_

It irritated Russia and China alike how foreigners seemed to think Siberia was a different country.

Really.

* * *

72)_ Belief_

It angered Iraq and many of his neighbours with how hypocritical the western nations were.

The way he and his children were hated because of their faith, a religion they claimed gave birth to terrorists and extremists. What happened to the religious tolerance nations like America and Britain pretended they promoted?

They had the fanatics as well, just as Iraq had the innocent.

The women and the men who went about their lives peacefully, worshipping their god with a simplicity that was inspiring. They didn't make political statements through violence, they coexisted with others without prejudice and followed their religious guidelines.

While Iraq accepted the responsibility some interpretations of his religion caused men to do, they did not.

What about the "God-fearing" men who forced their daughters to have abortions?

What about the groups of citizens who deliberately ostracised people with different skin colours and different gods?

The people who would burn women under false suspicions?

The West had as much to answer for as he had, and he wondered when they would see it.

* * *

73) _Star_

America watched as England looked into his telescope and then carefully traced a few dots on a piece of paper that shifted between colours.

America had asked and England said he was finding constellations and tracing them in order to determine this month's horoscope.

America really didn't get it.

Weird.

The sky was pretty, though.

* * *

74) _Nancy_

England wondered wearily when the colourful names were going to get old.

* * *

75) _Paint  
_

Sealand stood eerily over a sleeping England whose fertility magic had worn him out - true, the land was healthy again, but the older blond was exhausted.

Holding his favourite book, Peter Pan, in a clenched hand, Sealand plotted.

The large British flag that had been slapped roughly on the front cover could not be forgiven.

Yes, it would be an underhanded move; but since when did eyebrows ever play fair? It was time to level the field.

The young boy lifted up his brush in the other hand and let the artistic talent flow with an evil grin.

* * *

76) _Turtle  
_

Romano likes to secretly stroke Spain's pets when the nation isn't around to see it.

However, what he doesn't know is that Spain's pets can talk to him.

Spain thinks it's adorable. As usual.

Romano frowns and blushes.

As usual.

* * *

77) _Survey_

"This can't be bloody right! I am _not _too lazy between the sheets!"

"Whaaaat? I'm not rough; heroes aren't rough! At least, not deliberately..."

"Qu'ck? Hm."

"Haha! Go take a shower, Sadik! You're too sweaty!"

"Says you, soppy! Man up a little, women clearly don't like the sweet crap!"

"Ve~ I'm the third best! Yay! But, hey! Germany isn't smelly! I should know, I-"

"Shut up, _Italien_!"

"Fusosososo! Número uno! Don't be jealous though, Lovi! Boss still only has time for you-"

"Shut up, tomato bastard!"

"I-I'm tenth best?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada."

"Haha! In your face, Angleterre! Ze English 'ave no talent for love, whezer emotional _or _physical!"

"Go shag a dinosaur, bloody git!"

"At least I might 'ave a shot, you would probably collapse from ze strain, _paresseux_!"

"You damn tw-"

"...My _brat_ is too hairy? WHO WROTE THIS ARTICLE?"

...

"_Amieryka_!"

"IT WAS ENGLAND! ENGLAND! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! OW, THAT HURTS! PLEASE LET GO BELARUS, IT WAS ENGLAND'S NEWSPAPER!"

"_Anhlija_..."

"YOU BLOODY GIT!"

* * *

78) _Drink__  
_

He looked down at her pulsing neck with some hesitation and a lot of thirst.

She looked up at him with frustration, and began to tap the bedsheets.

"Are you going to do it, Dumitru, or do you need a straw?"_  
_

He glared at her. "Patience, Erzsébet. This isn't something to be undertaken lightly."

She huffed and glared right back.

"I can handle it."

He cocked his eyebrow. "Can you?"

* * *

79) _Existence_

It was something China had pondered all his 4000 years, the purpose of their eternal life. It's a fascinating subject that never fails to attract his interest.

However, it has been without an answer for the past 4000 years, so China decided to ignore it for a while.

* * *

80) _Vision_

"Veronique!"

He watches as she spins around, her chocolate hair flying, her cappuccino skin glowing in the sunlight. She stops to look at him, the man who calls her name, and he thinks her angelic.

The wind continues to pull her hair, and it dances frantically behind her. Slowly, when she recognises him, a large, cheerful smile envelops her face, and he finds himself gazing at the sun.

Her hand comes up and she waves, greeting him with the shock of a welcome surprise. Her head tilts slightly, and never had he been so thankful for sight than right in the moment, seeing her.

He is stunned still, and only reanimates when she skips up to his and smothers him in a hug. He dazedly hugs back, savouring the warmth that seems to seep from her very pores, and reluctantly lets go when she pulls back.

She keeps her hands on his shoulders and laughs delightedly before pulling him into another hug.

"Welcome to the Seychelles, Francis!"

* * *

**They just keep coming! (is it just me, or are they getting longer?)**

**Thank you for all the reviews!**

**I'd like to point out, some aren't connected, some are!**

**Also, the link to the article in 77 is on my profile.**

**Please, please review!**


	5. Chapter 5: 81 to 100

**_I don't own__ Hetalia_**

* * *

81) _Speech Therapy_

"It's aluminium!"

"That's what I said, aluminium."

"No, you daft sod, it's _al-you-mini-um_!"

"_A-loom-min-um_."

"No, no... Okay. Tomato."

"Tomato."

"No! _To-mat-oh_!"

"_To-may-toh_."

"No! America, you idiot!"

"What?"

"Alright - _once more_. Vase."

"Vase."

"For God's sake!"

* * *

82) _Assumptio__n__  
_

Massachusetts sits on top of the counter, swinging his legs idly.

His eyes are on the blond haired man who is standing at the side of him looking avidly into a microscope while he mutters random stuff and writes on his notepad.

He perks up slightly when the man asks him a question.

"Dylan, where's the spare slides? The pressure's broken this one."

The young boy glances to the side, sees the requested object and picks it up, before handing to the man's outstretched hand. Massachusetts goes back to watching with attention, while the room falls silent again. His shoulders slump in unwelcome boredom.

It is around fifteen seconds later when the man shoots up as if remembering something, and his eyes fall on the glum boy. His blue eyes soften, and he gestures him forward.

"Come on kid, have a look at this."

Massachusetts smiles excitedly and leans forward into the lens, gasping in awe at the sight he sees.

"So cool dad!"

America smiles again and looks around him with inspecting eyes, wondering what his other nations would think if they could see him now.

Taking up molecular genetics as a hobby to complement (kind of... not really) the microbiology he finds himself enjoying immensely.

Being the loving father he tries so hard to be.

There was more to him than first impressions, and he often wonders if anyone could see that.

* * *

83) _Doll__  
_

Hungary shivered and moaned in pain as she awoke.

The bed was empty, and she felt cold; inside and out.

Her whole body ached, her skin felt shrivelled and dry.

Most of all, her neck felt like someone had viciously dug into it with a serrated knife.

A tear ran down her cheek as she tried to move, a terrified gasp escaping when she couldn't.

She felt used.

_"I can handle it."_

_"Can you?"_

'... No.'

'Dumitru... where are you...?'

* * *

84) _Squirrel_

One of the most endearing things about Italy was his short, jumpy attention span.

The klutziness the older man displayed was often extremely childish, it made him sweetly clueless.

Germany reluctantly admitted this.

_Reluctantly_.

* * *

85) _Pair__  
_

_"Where's _sestra_?"_

Russia hadn't known how to answer that.

He hadn't known what to tell his little sister who clung timidly to his sleeve, rubbing her face against his new scarf he had gotten from his elder sister.

Because for once, in a very long time, his age was a deciding factor.

He wasn't old enough to know where Ukraine was, and he wasn't old enough to know how to lie.

So he simply told his sister the very thing that was eating away at his tiny heart.

_"I don't know."_

* * *

86)_ Government_

France hated the word.

Like, _really _hated it.

And he liked to think he had a damn good reason.

* * *

87) _Sport_

"Woo!" Liechtenstein hollered as she flew down the snowy mountain side, ducking under a low tree branch.

Her big _bruder_ was miles behind her due to his lack of practice (sometimes not having to do a lot of work paid off) and she whizzed along, thoroughly enjoying the freedom.

Not that she didn't love him, but sometimes it was great to just be alone.

* * *

88) _Volleyball_

Australia whooped as he slammed the ball back over the net, jumping back when New Zealand was able to hit it back over.

He hit it back, as did she, and this continued for quite a while; both being very good players.

Eventually, to the disappointment of their crowd, they stopped for a drink. The hot sun blazed, and they flopped onto the sand under a tree.

"So." New Zealand looked up suspiciously at the tone in her brother's voice.

"What?" Her voice held a warning - no crap, Kyle.

"Um... so what this... thing... between you and Japan?"

She stared at him from her lying position on the floor in amazement, before bursting out laughing.

"What?" Australia said defensively, and he did NOT have a pout. "It's a valid question."

New Zealand kept laughing as she tried to get out her piece.

"Don't seriously... hah... tell me... haha... that you're going all 'protective big brother' on me?" She laughed again, "you never cared when I was friends with guys before!"

Australia crossed his arms. "Those were mortal boys, and I knew you weren't stupid enough to get involved with any of them."

New Zealand scoffed and sat up. "What are you saying, Kyle?"

"That Japan is a _nation_, and he sure as hell doesn't have a limited lifespan. Hence, you might feel... attracte-"

"Oh my God! I cannot believe you are talking about this! Japan and I are just friends; bonding over our mutual liking of his country's manga!"_  
_

"Yeah, just _now_. I just don't want you getting with him and getting hur-"

New Zealand stood up and pushed her nose into her sitting brother's face - subconsciously despairing over the height difference. Why was she so SMALL? - before letting rip.

"And so what if we are? What if Japan and I are together? What the hell are you going to do about it, dumba-"

"Uh, Abbey-chan?"

The siblings had been so busy arguing, they hadn't noticed the visiting nation that had been walking up to them.

New Zealand suddenly turned red, and spun around to see another pointedly red face.

She wished the earth would swallow her whole.

* * *

89) _Scorpion_

Spain winced as Romano's latest tirade battered him, trying to let the insults wash away as they usually did, trying to be unaffected as he usually was.

But it was hard.

Because the more you loved someone, the more you valued their opinion.

Romano was unaware that he held Spain in the palm of his hand, and therefore did nothing to dilute his words.

And his undiluted words carried a venomous sting.

One Spain wasn't sure he could keep recovering from.

* * *

90) _Gathering  
_

"Hungary... I'll admit, I was confused as to why you invited me." Seychelles frowned as she thought, without any results.

Belgium also spoke up. "So was I. I mean, the only thing we have in common is the fact we're all one of the few female nations. I've nothing against you two, but we've never really spoken before."

Hungary sniffed as she sipped some of her mocha, and set the cup down on the table.

"Indeed. But we have one more thing in common."

"What?"

She smirked.

"Our wayward other halves. And notice I left off the 'better'."

* * *

91) _Pantyhose_

Germany froze as he walked into Prussia's room.

Germany looked at the wispy item of lingerie in his brother's hands.

Prussia stopped pulling them up his leg.

"Gilbert-"

Germany paused and shivered disgustedly, before walking out.

"Never mind. I don't want to know."

* * *

92) _Garter_

"What the actual _FUCK_?"

Romano began swearing up a storm as he flung open Spain's door.

"I-It's not what it looks like!"

Spain blushed as he let go of the small piece of fabric and pulled down the short skirt.

Romano slammed the door shut again.

"Mentally scarred! _Stronzo_!"

* * *

93) _Brassiere_

"Bloody hell."

"Uh, _Angleterre_? This isn't-"

"It's quite depressing that this doesn't even surprise me anymore."

"That's not-"

"Oh, bloody hell Francis! Have some damned self respect!"

* * *

94) _Tsunami_

They are opposing forces, battering against the walls that imprison them. Without the other, a vacuum would be created, and despite this, they threatened with deadly intent. They were the separate halves of a conflicted whole, personifications of power that tried with all their might to swallow the other.

One was all fire and heat, burning and consuming everything in his path. A fearsome temper hidden behind an oblivious exterior to the world.

The other was sharp and ice, freezing and cutting. A sly silver tongue that sliced deep into the flesh of his enemies.

...

He grinned, knowing his blade was biting into the others neck, trying not to wince at the returning pain.

"Ready to give up, _Inglés hijo de puta_?"

"Never, you Spanish bastard."

* * *

95) _Departure_

"What do you want from me, Lovino?" Spain shouted at the younger man as he looked for his clothes.

The living room was a mess, their half-eaten plates of food, their clothing thrown everywhere. The Italian was still clinging to the blanket that had been fetched from the airing cupboard.

He picked his boxers and tugged them on, before yanking on the jeans he had found first. He looked back at his lover with a frustrated frown, his anger building as he saw the man's conflicted face. Could he not even say anything?

"Say something, Romano!"

Romano's head snapped up, his eyes going wide. Spain's matched, realised what he had just said. He hadn't call Romano by his country name in centuries. But he didn't regret it. Because the way things were going, he didn't think the man would be his Lovi much longer.

"S-Spain?"

"Say something." Spain whispered, his rush abruptly extinguished. "Please." _Tell me to stay._

Silence greeted him.

He propelled himself into action. He swept up his jacket and hooked it over his arm, abandoning his search for a shirt. It didn't matter.

Romano stood up, wrapping the blanket around him, and tried to reach out.

"W-wait."

Spain ignored him, slipping his mobile into a jean pocket.

"Wait, bastard!"

Spain spun around, and Romano took a step back in shock.

"That is not my name!" Spain scowled, and tried to calm himself.

Romano's eyes immediately turned defensive.

"Just go, if that's what you damn well want."

He turned around, attempting to maintain some dignity dressed in just a sheet as he was about to storm away.

"Sometimes I think it's you that wants to leave, Romano."

Romano looked at the floor, and felt warmth come to brush against his back. He unwillingly leant back into the larger body.

_Antonio..._

Suddenly, the warmth was gone, and he was alone. The front door banged shut.

"Stupid bastard!" Romano roared, grabbing the nearest object and lobbing it at the wall. It shattered upon impact.

He threw himself back onto the sofa, and curled up into a ball.

"If I wanted to leave, I would have left by now..."

* * *

96) _Plan_

"This is _not _going to work." Belgium looked at herself critically, before raising an incredulous eyebrow at Hungary.

"Trust me, Bella! An eye for an eye. Besides, it's rather appropriate."

Seychelles let out an uncharacteristic scoff. "What, dressing up as men? My chest hurts! I wish you hadn't bound it!"

"No results without sacrifice, ladies! And yes, since those dumbasses think they can pass as women."

Belgium sighed. "I'm just glad we got to keep our hair."

"I wouldn't have gone that far! Besides, wigs work wonders."

Seychelles looked at her attire once more, and had to admit, at the very most, she looked like an extremely effeminate man. Oddly enough, only Hungary seemed to pass as straight.

Although... she was slightly impressed at the insane woman's work. She did good.

Hungary stood in the middle of the two doubting women, and grinned. In the mirror, three men stared back, and she felt some pride at the transformation.

And anticipation.

Those assholes had no idea what was coming.

* * *

97) _Footnote_

P.S. Ti amo, bastard.

...

P.S. The mozzarella is on the third shelf in the fridge. Don't lose the house keys.

...

P.S. Leave Roderich alone, idiot.

...

P.S. Oh, you might want to come and get your pipe, dude. Mattie's bear seems to like it a bit TOO much, if you catch my drift.

...

P.S. I have left you some food in your freezer. I don't want you to starve, or die from YOUR atrocious cooking.

...

P.S. I finally managed to order the last volume of Fruits Basket!

...

P.S. I've got a surprise for you, Lovi!

...

P.S. Just shows what you know, priss. GILBIRD IS AWESOME.

...

P.S. The irises were lovely, thank you. I hope you like the Tropicbird orchids I sent you.

...

P.S. _Ja ciabie liubliu, brat._

...

P.S. Ludwig! I can't find the pasta!

...

P.S. Use proper grammar, git! You spell it 'colour'!

* * *

98) _Age_

"Ve~ How old are you Ludwig?"

"Um... Around 141 years old, I believe. Why do you ask, Feliciano?"

"... No way! I thought you were older than that!"

"Why?"

"Because that makes you my toy-boy! No wonder big brother France calls me a cradle robber! Ve~ haha!"

"E-Exactly how old _are _you?"

"Uh... Well I knew _nonno _only about half a century before he died, so... about 1602? Yeah, that's it!"_  
_

"... _Mein Gott_..."

"Hahaha!"

* * *

99) _Touch_

Germany hid a smile as Veneziano's hand brushed over before linking with his under the table.

* * *

100) _Parasite_

Prussia ducked under another glass she had been carrying, one that smashed against the brick wall behind him. He sheltered himself from the flying shards, and winced when he failed to dodge another makeshift weapon.

"Get to hell, Prussia! And don't come back!"

Hungary's face held true rage as she repeated tried to hit her opponent.

"E-Erzs-" He watched in shock as tears began to pour down her flushed cheeks, and her words were stuttered with sobs.

"You're like a shark! Sniffing in the water for the slightest hint of blood, and- no! You're not a shark! You aren't allowed the dignity!"

She halted her attacks, and stood still, frying pan in hand. He held his hand up to protect himself.

"You are a leech! You suck the life out of the nearest living thing, keep yourself on the hard work and generosity of others. You shouldn't even still be here!"

That stung. He let his arm fall to his side, and the rain drenched them both.

"Why are you even still alive? Your country is gone, and no one even knows who you are any more! You're just a pathetic remnant of the past!"

Unknown to her, his tears joined hers in the rain.

"You are nothing! No one loves you, or even likes you! JUST DISAPPEAR!" She screamed into his face.

She stared when a sob came from the intolerable man in front of her.

He still loved her. He didn't know why. Maybe that's why it hurt so much.

Then he realised, the pain in his body wasn't normal. This wasn't emotion.

It was speedily getting hotter and hotter, and he let out some sort of strangled choke as he clutched his chest, before falling to his knees.

Hungary gasped in horror as he fell, and took a few steps forward. She didn't hit him that hard... It couldn't be...

"No..."

He tried to inhale, tried to get air into his lungs, and his crimson eyes bulged in panic when he couldn't.

"P-Prussia...? No." Her voice was high pitched in an ominous kind of terror, as she knew what was happening. Oh god.

He looked for her through blurring eyes as his body starved itself of oxygen. He saw nothing through the sheets of water, and within seconds, he felt himself topple backward.

She watched him fall as if in slow motion and also felt herself speed towards him, catching his head before it cracked off the concrete.

She moved her hands to his cheeks, and shook his head desperately. A whimper escaped his lips, and it was if a dam had been broken.

"NO! I DIDN'T MEAN IT! I didn't mean it! I SWEAR, NO! PLEASE, NO! BREATH!" She looked into his frantically searching eyes as his other hand came up to grip her arm.

His entire body was bucking until the strain of trying to breath, and now he could feel the warm water on his face.

"GILBERT, PLEASE! DON'T GO!" He could hear her pleading, but for some reason it was fainter, and he knew that could only be bad.

He didn't want to go. He had so much left to do. To say.

But she was crying. And fixing that was the first priority.

She almost felt like she had five minutes ago - like hitting him - when a wide smile spread painfully across his face, his usual obnoxious grin. Except his lips were purple, and her face crumpled when she realised time had ran out.

She bit her lip in an attempt to hold in the wailing, and blood escaped when her shaking jaw caused her to bite down.

His grin remained as his body gradually stopped its movements, and his eyes fluttered shut.

She slapped his cheek hard.

"No! Don't you do that! DON'T YOU DARE DO THAT, YOU STUPID MAN. YOU ARE NOT LEAVING ME, UNDERSTAND?"

He tried to open his eyes, but he felt so, so dizzy. So dizzy. But it would go away soon.

"Don't!" She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace, relishing his warmth and his scent - the only time she had ever been this close to him.

Her fingers dug into his neck, and held onto his pulse with helplessness as the beats got slower.

She was resigned to weeping as his heart began to stop, in guilt, in shame, in grief.

When the beats at last stopped, and her heart for the first time in her entire life felt like it could kill itself, she moved him back to look at his face.

She leant in, and kissed him for the first and last time.

The last thing he felt before the black depths was something warm on his lips, and it felt like heaven.

At last.

He knew she loved him.

He knew she would kiss him.

One doesn't bet against the awesome Prussia.

_Because I am _always _right. _

_Silly Erzsébet._

* * *

**_Well, that was quite depressing ones, and I feel better now (is it sad to cry at your own writing? Probably)._**

**_Sorry for the delay, I was away._**

**_We're at 100! Woot!_**

**_Also, I'm now doing pseudo-requests! So if you want a specific moment, or pairing, put it in a review, and I might (read: most likely will) do it. I like inspiration, and your ideas give it to me!_**

**_Please, please, please review!_**

**_REVIEW!_**


	6. Chapter 6: 101 to 120

**_I__ don't own__ Hetalia_**

* * *

101) _Narcissus_

It is a very aged concept, that history repeats itself.

Many scoff at such an idea, while others hold much faith.

Evidence claimed to be founded, only to be refuted.

However, very little of those who think of it believe that reality can follow the path of a story.

Like a fairytale.

...

The first time he lays his eyes on her, she is dancing in the woods, surrounded by mortals. She is young in form yet old in mind, and to him, she is beautiful. Addictive.

It isn't long before her presence becomes his drug, where it gets to the point that nothing could keep him from seeing her. Even the threat of her dearest elder sibling could not deter him, the possibility of capture and death barely registering in his mind.

All that matters is the lovely blonde girl and the anticipation of seeing her once again.

Soon, watching her in secret isn't enough, and he wants her to know who he is.

So, one day, he allows her to discover a deep purple hat.

Within a week they are talking like old friends, and meeting secretly behind her brother's back.

Thankfully, she doesn't question how he came to be here - how he, an obviously powerful man, came to be in the company of slip of a young woman.

And within time, these stolen moments aren't enough. He wants her to himself. Only himself.

He asks hopefully, and she declines regretfully.

So he devises a plan.

Nearly a week later, when she is free of any obligations, she skips slowly into a beautiful realm of flowers, and smiles delightfully.

When night comes and she makes to go home, he looks into her eyes, and she understands.

She struggles, of course, but soon she discovers his unnatural strength, and hence his unnatural existence.

She is fearful, and demands.

He is enthralled, and explains.

When his sharp teeth sink into her fleshy neck, she whines in pain, before her eyes fly open in shock, and she moans wantonly.

His eyes are also open, and reflect a greedy pleasure, a satisfied selfishness.

She feels it as her free will is sucked from her, yet she cannot find herself to deny him any longer.

He steals her away from her bed of daffodils in the middle of the night when they are spent.

Later in her life, her brother is killing to gain back his sister, and her dear friend and butler is at the door pleading for her to come home.

He smiles, inhales the scent of her neck and tightens his hold on her waist as she reaches into the folds of her new blood red dress.

Pulling out a very sweet fruit indeed.

* * *

102) _Homework_

Gilbert watches as she struts around the desk before leaning forward, giving him ample view of her cleavage.

He throws a very subtle look towards the door, noting with a grin that she had locked it.

He turns his gaze back to her, slowly trailing his eyes down her form. He sees she shivers slightly, and a rush of satisfaction rushes through him. Good. He didn't want her to think she could completely handle the awesome.

Deciding to play along, he slides on his glasses and links his fingers together.

"Yes, Miss Héderváry?"

* * *

103) _Wisdom_

America wonders why they are so afraid of that man. His young age causes him to be ignorant of many events that defines the nations around him, he knows this. Usually, he doesn't let it bother him - but he feels somewhere that it is important he gains this knowledge.

So he asks.

England knows.

France knows.

Prussia knows.

Begium knows.

Netherlands knows.

Romano knows, and is the only one who answers.

"Because we remember."

...

"You see those pirates, _Roma_?"

Romano clings to the loose soft shirt with a tiny fist, and follows the pointed finger.

"Uh. _Si_."

He gives a small nod, and looks up into the piercing green eyes of his boss. Soon, the malicious intent becomes too much, and he has to look away. The horizon seems safe, and so he gazes at it with a decidedly blank expression.

"They want something I have."

Romano's brow twitches in confusion. He tries to resist for a few moments, but the curiosity overwhelms him.

"What is it?"

"You."

Romano blinks in shock, and this time, can't stop himself looking back up. His boss's eyes are fixed on the aformentioned beings in the distance, and Romano can see the corner of his mouth as it tries to shift upward.

"Oh."

His legs dig further into the elder man's belt as the ship hits a particularly big wave. He blinks again when a large hat is placed gently on top of his head. The fearsome countenance vanishes, and a soft smile lights up his boss's face. Romano relaxes slightly.

"Don't worry, they won't get you." Romano relaxes further, the kindness coupled with the warm feeling of protectiveness soothing him.

The next sentence banishes all concept of peace.

"I'll slaughter them all."

The bland expression remains. A shudder runs up Romano's spine, and his grip on the material turns to steel.

* * *

104) _Alcohol_

America cautiously peered over the edge of the carton, searching for his self-appointed guardian.

The coast was clear. He let a sigh, and grinned. A small satisfied chuckle.

He raised it to his mouth.

"That bloody well ain't eggnog!"

"Eep!"

* * *

105) _Legend_

"Well, come on, ye mangy cowards!"

The captain's voice raged through the ship, and all the men looked around themselves with fright. The water swelled and dove over the deck, soaking everyone aboard. The vessel was being thrashed against the tides, but its master had no intention of allowing it to be lost.

"But, cap'n!"

One of the sailors spoke up, and flinched when powerful green eyes settled on him.

"These be dangerous waters! The waves grow too far!"

The blond smirked and threw himself down the set of stairs, landing in a crouch. The ship rocked again due to the waves, and all the men had to hold on. The sailor shook. The captain walked up to the man who spoke, his boots clacking against the wooden deck. He stopped around a foot away, and bent down to look into his subordinate's eyes. The man looked terrified.

"Aye, sailor." He spoke in a loud whisper that the man just managed to hear. "These be dangerous waters."

The sailor watched as his captain turned his gaze slowly to the left. The younger man followed in confusion. He gasped and jumped in fear when his eyes locked on a glaring face between the bars of the wooden rails, white hands clinging tightly. Wild black hair surrounded her face in a shroud, and he could have called her beautiful. Then she hissed and bared her pointed teeth, her eyes flashing a poisonous blue. She then flung herself back off the side of the boat and into the storm.

His captain looked back to him, a stare he returned wide-eyed. It couldn't have been...

The ship rocked again, and they held onto the nearest rail once more.

He froze as the captain came in closer, and his mouth was at his ear.

"But it isn't the sea you should fear, lad."

* * *

106) _Rodeo_

England was pretty sure there was a law against looking like _that__._

America's back curved backwards as he moved with the stallion, his hands holding tightly to the reigns. England swallowed as he could see the muscles flex in the young man's powerful back, the tanned skin and thin shirt doing nothing to hide it. His eyes dragged themselves up and down his arms, the muscles there bulging everytime he was thrown backwards. He pulled them away again and they settle at last on the man's concentrating face, Texas perched precariously on the edge of his nose, a cowboy hat on his head.

England swallowed again. His eyes ventured downwards more than once after that, and he was so focussed that he almost didn't notice when America allowed himself to be thrown off after just beating the record - as a nation with super strength, it wasn't exactly a fair battle.

He didn't flinch when he landed heavily, knowing the man needed more than a slight knock to damage him.

England drifted off into a dream where tanned skin was exposed and muscles explored. He jumped when a hand was laid on his shoulder. He turned around.

America laughed and rubbed through his hair, the towel around his neck helping to cool him down.

"Hey, Artie! What y' think? Pretty good, huh?"

England straightened himself up and smoothed out his jacket. Not saying a word, he looked for a moment into the taller's eyes, before walking around him and towards the exit in the stands. America frowned in confusion, before following.

What did he do to upset Iggy? From the few glimpses he had gotten at the older man he had seemed kinda interested, and not at all mad, so what did America do? Like, Iggy had gotten over the nickname thing. He was... sure. Oh my God, that was it! Iggy didn't like being called Artie! That was what was wrong! He'd better go apologise.

"Yo, Arthur! Wait, dude!"

America frowned again when England, instead of stopping, sped up. He watched as the man vanished into the dark tunnel under the stand, and he followed. It was dark and cool under here - something America was thankful for - and he looked up for a second, smiling at the feet he could see.

Then, his mind was back on track, and he looked around. He didn't see England. Hang on. There.

He walked over to the man who was standing with his back to him.

"I'm sorry about callin' y' Arti-"

His eyes flew open out of a blink when out of nowhere the fingers of a hand sank into his hair, the other sliding under his shirt to brush over his abs. Cool lips connected with his own, and when his mouth opened under the sudden kiss, a tongue began a heated assault on his own. It didn't take him long to catch on, and he broke it off with a grin.

"Artie! Somebody's ho~ot!" He sang, and a chuckle was cut off when a growl rumbled from the smaller man's chest and he was pulled into another.

His hand returned the favour, tangling itself into the other's blond hair, and he used his other to remove his hat. He had to stop himself from bursting out into laughter when the hand that had been reacquainting itself with his stomach disappeared and landed on top of his own, stopping his movements.

So somebody wanted some cowboy fun, huh?

America can do.

* * *

107) _Farewell_

_Espana,_

_I never thought I'd do this on paper, but I'm a coward._

_We can't do this anymore._

_It... feels like I'm trying to save something that doesn't want to be saved. I know it's worth saving, but I don't think you do. I don't blame you._

_I can't keep pretending to be something I'm not. I'm not a nice person, and I never have been. I know it. I can't keep letting myself think you can change that. __I'm not worth it anyway._

_It hurts. I've never felt this before, but I know enough to know I don't like it. So I'm doing something about it._

_Veneziano will manage Italia for a while. I know he's a bit ditzy, but he'll manage. Germany will help him. I don't have any right to ask, but I hope you will too._

_Tell him not to look for me._

_I apologise for all the trouble I've ever caused you._

_I have no right, but I love you. Always have, but I don't think it's enough for us anymore._

_Lovino_

* * *

108)_ Dictionary_

A heavy book slammed down on the table beside him, and America jumped, dropping his game controller.

"What the hell is that?"

He didn't like England's evil grin.

* * *

109) _Haircut_

"...Specs? ...What's with the scissors...?"

"Just sit still, Gilbert."

"Specs."

"And get that infernal chicken off your head."

"_Mein Gott_, stay away from me!"

"Stop being a child!"

"_Nein_!"

* * *

110) _Flirt__  
_

France bats his eyelashes. Seychelles rolls her eyes.

Sometimes she feels her partner is more feminine than her.

* * *

111) _Cello_

Italia peaked through the door into the music room, and watched the owner of the instument play it so passionately. It was beautiful.

He vyed for a glance of icy eyes, to no avail.

He pouted.

Then, the music stopped abruptly, and he got his wish. Blue eyes met his, and Italia giggled at the embarrassment he saw in them.

"Holy Rome plays really well!"

He then giggled again, and ran away down the hallway to his room in his green and white dress.

He didn't see his subject turn beet red and give a tiny smile.

* * *

112) _Marriage__  
_

Hungary froze in her sneaking into the house when a certain smell floated up her nostrils.

It couldn't be.

She peaked into the kitchen, and her furious eyes softened when she saw her husband carefully pulling back the covering of a baking dish.

She shook her head, and slipped into a chair silently.

Austria turned around, and he showed no surprise at her sudden appearance, simply serving her a portion.

They ate in companionable silence. When she was finished, she stood and left a lingering kiss on his cheek.

She left the kitchen with a warm smile. He wore a fond one, and let out a light sigh.

She accepted his apology.

* * *

113) _Correction__  
_

England noticed that many people seemed to think France would be better without a mouth. While England understood the sentiment, he strongly disagreed.

"No, the frog would be better without a _voicebox_."

France had a rather nice mouth.

He was very good at with it too, when England made him use it for something... productive.

* * *

114) _Awkwardness_

"Uh, Ivan?"

"_Da_, Yao?"

"Please tell me that's jam, aru."

* * *

115) _Poultry_

"_Mein Gott... _I'm going to be sick."

A sigh. "Who invited the idiot?"

"It's Christmas. It would have been impolite not to."

"I believe it's more impolite to spew on people's floors, but he doesn't seem to care. Next time, neither should you."

* * *

116) _Miss_

"_Verdammt_!"

"I... I just beat _Schweiz_?"

"Woo! Go _Westen_! Your _bruder_ had complete faith in you!"

"Uh, big _bruder_? It's ok, you can try again next yea-"

"Rematch, _Deutschland_. NOW."

* * *

117) _Size_

England walks in to America's office, and stops when he sees the younger nation whining incoherently into his desk.

He sighs.

"You have just successfully sent a man to the moon. You are one of the most powerful countries in the world, as well as one of the richest. You haven't seen Russia in months because he is sulking and plotting revenge. What could _possibly _be wrong with you?"

America looks up, and England has to stop himself rolling his eyes at the look of devastation.

"Did you know?"

"Know _what_?"

"That the land translates directly to the nation."

England frowns. "Yes, but where are you going-"

He stops and looks more closely. There is a measuring tape sitting unravelled at America's left elbow.

America eyes almost burst out of his head when England snorts then starts to laugh.

"Oh, bloody hell! You are such a child, America! You _must _have already know that!" He stops talking to laugh some more, and chokes slightly when he receives no reply. "Did the Cossak enlighten you as to the fact he has the largest landmass and therefore the largest-"

"That commie bastard!"

England was full out cackling by now.

* * *

118) _Maid_

Austria absently thanks her for the tea, and only looks up accidently.

However, he is blinded by her smile, and begans to wonder when Hungary became more than just his servant.

* * *

119) _Information_

China is proud to say that he is one of the only countries with no personal connections to his criminal organisations. He has so many that it would be rather difficult - not impossible - so he is pleased regarding that as well.

However, that does not mean he remains on the side of the law constantly.

Sometimes, the need for violence these younger nations display can be rather irritating.

His intelligence network is much more fun to manage that those fanatics.

China sees _all_.

* * *

120) _Responsibility_

He walked down the hall slowly, his steps small as he gazed impassively at each section. Picture and framed articles and lists of names and guilt guilt _guilt_.

Everytime he saw something else, it grew until he was embarrassed and utterly ashamed that he had even dared to step on her land.

What right did he have, after everything he had done?

His mobile had been turned on silent when he had decided to entertain his masochistic streak. Because he had known very well what it would cause him to feel.

When he exited into the warm sunshine, he had seven missed calls.

The last had been almost half an hour ago, and he looked around himself. Looking for her. Because she wouldn't have given up. No. Abbey was far too stubborn for that.

He at last spotted a petite blonde sitting with her back to him. He walked slowly over to her, and sat next to her silently.

They sat and stared at the lovely view, neither of them actually seeing it. He wondered when she would speak, because he didn't deserve to say anything to her, to explain his explanation-less actions.

She cleared her throat, and he diverted his attention to her without moving. He could feel the grim realisation in the air, and had to refrain from a sigh of loss. Because he could feel the blissful happiness they had previously spent in each others company drift into the air, disappating forever. He idly wondered as he waited patiently for her to speak how he had ever thought they could have a careless relationship, platonic or not.

There was too much bad blood between them for that to ever be possible. After what he had done to _her_.

"I-I won't do you the honour of forgiving you, Kiku."

He bowed his head, and despite knowing she was completely justified, an ache sprouted in his heart.

"Nor will I do myself and my children the dishonour of forgetting. They deserve so much better."

The ache grew.

"But... I am willing to move past it. We cannot live in the past. _I _cannot live in the past. I cannot maintain such a grudge against you when we live in today's world. I don't even feel the need."

She held up her hand when his head shot up and he moved to speak.

"You are my friend, Honda Kiku, and I am proud to be yours. You are a different man now, the whole world can see it. You need to move on, as I will."

He looked down again, and she looked at the side of his face with a gentle expression. Her eyes weren't soft or hard, but accepting, and when he looked into them, he saw his dearest friend. Not the woman he had hurt so atrociously, not the hurt and injured but determined nation of New Zealand he had seen nearly seventy years ago. But his _friend_.

"_Hai_."

* * *

**Woop! Another chapter!**

**Prompt 101 is for Myrna Maeve, who asked for Romania x Liechtenstein. Hope you liked it!**

**Prompt 107 is for IncomprehensibleSparks, who asked for SpaMano breakup angst. Hope you liked it too!**

**-101: based on the myth of Hades and Persephone, for those of you who recognise the story.**

**-107: I believe that if Romano actually sat down and thought out what he was going to say, he would be a lot more reasonable instead of angry. Also, that to me he would have a bit (understatement) of an inferiority complex.**

**-120: Come on. It was a mini-series regarding a relationship between New Zealand and Japan; we were gonna have to touch on the hardcore sooner or later. There is so much history there that I couldn't ignore. BTW, Japan is walking through the World War 2 Hall of Memories in the Auckland War Memorial Museum.**

**Hope you all enjoyed! Please leave reviews, and any more requests please!**

**REVIEW PLEASE! **


	7. Chapter 7: 121 to 140: WW1 Special

**_I don't own_ _Hetalia _**

* * *

**These 20 chronological moments will all be from the time period 1914-1918, more commonly known as World War One. Enjoy ;-)**

* * *

121)_  
_

Hungary scowled, feeling this was a match strike. The fire was an imminent threat; she just wasn't sure what form it would take.

"They're dead, Roderich. They've been killed by those _átkozott _Serbs!"

He nodded, before holding his face in his hands and sighing.

"This has... set the ball rolling, as it were." He looked up into his wife's eyes, and took in her nervous but angered posture. "We cannot stop it. Perhaps we should go with the tide."

* * *

122)

"Stop mobilizing, _Russland_."

"_Nyet_. Besides, I don't really see what it has to do with you, _da_? _Avstriya_ and _Vengriya _are the ones who are to wage war on _Serbiya_. You have no place here, _Germaniya_. Go home, _da_?"

"_Nein_. _Deutschland _declares war on _Russland_."

"I will protect _Serbiya_. No petty fight will be stopping me."

"We'll see."

"... It is making me wonder what your _brat _is to be saying about this little adventure you're having, _Germaniya_. You are making some powerful enemies."

"..."

* * *

123)

"What are we supposed to do, Roma? _Germania_ wants me to join him, so does _Signora_ _Ungheria_, but _Francia_ wants me on his side!"

"Well you should have thought of that before signing an alliance with them both, _idiota_!"

"Maybe we should join Germany..."

"No! I'm not joining a side with the potato and the Hungarian! I don't trust them, or that pussy musician."

"But Roma~"

"No! It's a damned defensive alliance, Vene! What part of _defensive _don't you get? There is nothing defensive about what _Austria_ and _Ungheria_ are doing to _Serbia_! And I don't trust them not to stab us in the back!"

"But _Signora_ _Ungheria_ wouldn't do that, she's really nic-"

"_Stupido_! This is war! If she thinks it's best for her land, she'll damn well do it!"

"... But I can't join _Francia_, because _Germania _might think I don't like him any more!"

"Ugh, _babbeo_. If you cannot join either side, what's the only other option...?"

"... You don't join any."

"_Precisamente_."

* * *

124)_  
_

"But _bruder_-"

"_Nein_."

"Ludwig, you can't! We recognised her neutrality! We cannot invade her! Hey! Get off me! Let go, _arschlöcher_!"

"_You_ signed that piece of paper. _I _did not."

"_Bruder_! You inherited everything! You have a responsibility to uphold my duties! _Nein_, let go!"_  
_

"Perhaps you should stay here, Gilbert."

"_Nein_! _Belgien_!"

* * *

125)

"_Non_! Stay away from me, _salaud_!"

"Just come with me, and less people will be hurt, _frau_."

"_Non_!"

"... I didn't want to have to resort to this, but you gave me no choice."

"_Que_? _Lâcher de moi_!"

"_Heerführer _von Bülow."

"_Ja, herr_?"

"Tell your men they can have her."

"_NON_!"

* * *

126)_  
_

"No! This is unacceptable, Germany! I will not stand for this! The Treaty of London demands she is neutral, and you broke it with deliberate intent! My country will not stand for this!"

"You would go to war over a scrap of paper, _Britannien_?"

"Yes!"

* * *

127)

"We, Austria-Hungary, hereby declare war on the Russian Empire."

* * *

128)

"Belgium?"

"_A-Angleterre_? You're here... _Bon_."

"Dear god... Bella..."

"Why... did you take so long...?"

"I'm sorry... so sorry. Oh, love..."

* * *

129)

England looked to the side to see France nodding his head forcefully, both encouraging and threatening. England needed to do this, despite his country's many connections in Vienna.

Because they couldn't afford another quarrel with France while the state of world affairs was so poor.

"I, the British Empire, hereby declare war on the Austro-Hungarian Empire."

* * *

130)

"Hey, _Russki_! What the hell are you doing on my land?"

"Hm, perhaps you should be asking your _brat_, not me, _da_?"

"... Ludwig? What'd he do?"

"..."

"_Russland_, what did he do? And get the hell out of my house."

"Ask him. And _nyet_."

* * *

131)

"Please Japan; help me with this."

"... I don't know, _Igirisu-san_..."

"Please, I'm not asking you to come into Europe. Just the German bastards in the Chinese waters."

"... Very well. You have my aid."

"Thank you."

* * *

132)

"_Ja_! And stay out, you _Russki _bastard!"

"Happy now, _bruder_?"

"... I'm still not happy with you, Ludwig. But..."

"'But', what?"

"... My faith is growing. Slowly."

* * *

133)

"What are you going to do, _Angleterre_?"

France shivered at the look he received.

"I'll barricade him in, and starve him."

* * *

134)

The snow fell down to the ground, carpeting the muddy and destroyed land. Two blond men stood side by side as others mingled, the laughter of several languages echoing into the cold night.

"I think we can stop for tonight, kraut."

"_Ja_... just tonight."

* * *

135)

Romano and Veneziano looked at one another as the three other nations stared at them, impatience beginning to show. Each brother could see the other's apprehension, but they knew they had no choice. In a world war, one could not remain neutral.

"... _Si__. _We'll sign it."

Russia clapped his hands, and they both shuddered. France nodded, as did England.

"Good. It'll be known as the Treaty of London."

'_The London Pact...'_

* * *

136)

"We, hereby declare war on Austria-Hungary." Romano's strong voice filled the room as one of the Allies demands of them was fulfilled.

Veneziano's hands shook nervously. _Italia _was at war.

* * *

137)

Russia frowned. His Tsar had now become the commander of his forces to both try to boost morale and further the war effort.

With the scowls on the the faces of the people around him, he had a feeling it wasn't working.

* * *

138)

"W-we, the representatives of _Italia_, hereby proclaim that our great nation is at war with Germany."

Romano would never tell a soul that the hand he had on his brother's shoulder was to keep the younger man standing.

Veneziano blinked back the water building in his eyes.

_'Ludwig... stop this... please...'_

* * *

139)

Russia let out a weary breath as he held his aching head.

He was being torn apart from the inside, and yet he had to fight a war that could destroy him...

* * *

140)

America looked determinedly into the horizon, and said with the utmost pride and power;

"I, the United States of America, hereby announce that I am at war with the German Empire!"

...

Faraway, across a vast ocean, four nations breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

**If anyone can name the history behind each moment, put it in a review!**

**The winner gets a oneshot of their choice!**

**Please review! I know you guys are out there, but you are avoiding me again! Come on!**

**REVIEW please!**


	8. Chapter 8: 141 to 160

**_I don't own Hetalia_**

* * *

141)

"Oh."

"_Nein, bruder!_"

"I understand."

"_Gilbert!_"

"Because I'm no longer a nation-"

"_Preussen!_"

"-I'm not welcome?"

"_Bruder, bitte!"_

"... fine."

_"Nein! Warten, bruder! Warten!"_

"You can all go fuck yourselves."

_"Bruder!"_

* * *

142)

"LET ME GO! You were my brother! Why do you do this?"

"NO! You belong to me!"

"Your stubbornness will be your downfall! I _will _be free!"

The silence is deafening, and Alfred's eyes widen as he begins to shake.

The poisonous green eyes that catch his own make him sick. The malicious smirk makes his chest ache like his heart was made of iron.

"_Never_."

* * *

143)

"What is your name?"

She glances up, her dark skin shining. She half-heartedly wipes the sweat off her face before looking once more to the ground, as was proper.

"Martha, mister."

She gasps as the tanned but ever so clearly white hands clasp her cheeks - the vast divide is imprinted in her mind, so much that it haunts her people in their every movement, in their very dreams - and soft lips press themselves to her forehead.

When he draws back, and she is so shocked she cannot move. He is extraordinarily handsome, and she has never felt so comfortable with a man is her entire life, not even her husband. All the stranger, he was _white_. It would have made her uneasy, had it not felt as if she had just been soothed by her father.

"Be strong, Martha. This is the land of the free. That means everyone - I promise you. I will no longer hold you in chains."

He begins to walk away, and she cannot believe her ears when he turns again, to shout to the slave-woman working in the field.

"You _will _be free!"

* * *

144)

Hungary didn't know that it was possible to be so torn.

That it was possible to love two men equally.

That it was possible to want them both.

* * *

145)

"Do you trust me?" America yells over the sounds of the engine.

"Do I have much of a choice?" England screams back, gripping tighter to the larger man's neck. He should be sitting back in his seat, but there he gets far too much of a view of how high they are.

America turns his head, and manages to capture the shorter blond's lips in a quick but intense kiss. When he pulls back, he leaves England dazed. he asks again, this time seriously.

"I know how to fly. I can do this. But you have to trust me, Arthur."

It takes a few moments, but the older man swallows and gives a small nod. The grin is back on America's face, and he whoops.

"Hold on tight!"

Then he pitches the stick forward.

* * *

146)

"And then, Lovi gave me the flower! He had the cutest face, and he looked as red as a little tomato! Ah, Lovi~ So cute-"

"He's mine." The venomous claim completely derailed any continuation Spain had planned, and the whole room fell silent. The other six members around them looked towards the culprit whose eyes were hidden by his hair, and Spain tried and failed to say something. The deadly intent behind the statement had thrown him off totally. Eventually, all that came out was a strangled name.

"... Feli?"

Veneziano looked up so quickly his hair whipped through the air, and his amber eyes glowed with a vicious glare that was directly in all its entirety at the Spaniard. Everyone moved back slightly, the threat of violence from the nation who was widely regarded as the weakest member of the G8 shocking.

The Italian slowly stood, and looked intently into each man's eyes. He stopped, lingering at Spain, and bored into the man's wary green orbs.

"Lovino is mine."

Dazed and confused, Spain must have given something resembling a nod, and suddenly, the atmosphere was gone. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief while they looked at each other, contemplating what exactly had just happened.

Veneziano sat back down in his seat with his eyes closed and an oblivious smile, before clapping his hands.

"_Buono!_"

* * *

147)

"You will leave him alone!" Prussia roared, his voice emphasised by his shooting up and slamming his hands down on the desk. He watched with some disgust as England did not react to his outburst, choosing to ignore it.

The silence was full of everything but sound, until once again, the short blond spoke up. His words were carefully chosen and delivered, and even Prussia could see that the former empire was close to losing it.

"Well, what would you like us to do, Prussia? Someone will pay for the crimes committed, and if it is not to be Germany, then who?"

The fervour he had previous held drained out of him, and the Prussian sat back down and held his face in his hands. How did it come to this?

"... It wasn't his fault. He's young; he didn't know what he was doing." The quiet murmur was unheard, futile, and desperate at best. He knew it would have no effect, but his love and loyalty demanded that he at least try.

"Excuse me?"

It was at that moment, that Prussia knew his life had reached its climax. So, this was what all of the pointless wars and tension had been for? Not for a peaceful future, but for one reckless move that could make or break him. He wondered absently what his brother would think of this, but found himself relieved the blond wasn't in the room. It wasn't a hard decision really, but it wasn't until it came out his mouth that he knew what he had chosen. Stupid and foolish, but really - this was Prussia. He didn't think things through, and when he came back victorious, he rubbed it in everyone's faces. It was a choice that one did on the battlefield, not in a meeting.

Perhaps it was his militaristic side showing through. But really, that was where Prussia belonged. Standing in a puddle of the blood of his enemies. A sword in his hand and a smirk on his face.

Why the hell would he want the _easy _option?

The _peaceful _one.

Gah.

He had sworn long ago, that if he went down, it would be fighting.

He stood up straight, and steadily gazed each of the allies in the eye, never flinching. When his attention returned to England, he gave one last wicked grin. Prussia would face this with the confidence of the ancients. Because he was Prussia, and he was awesome.

Consequences be damned.

"I said me!"

* * *

148)

"_D-Danmark?_"

He can taste the other man's breath on his lips, there is barely any space between them. He is sure the idiot must have drugged him, because he begins to feel dizzy; in a good way. His stomach is doing somersaults, and his chest is moving faster to inhale more air to keep up with demand.

Two gloved hands cup his cheeks and the warmth he can feel through the leather counteracts the chill of the day.

He tries to look away from those icy blue eyes which have trapped him. He attempts to summon some anger at the amusement in them, but ultimately fails.

Denmark smirks.

"_Ja, Norge_?"

* * *

149)

"N-No!"

Romano backs away slowly, his eyes wide with horror.

"I-I didn't mean to... no... I..."

His shaky fingers touch his lips, unconsciously savouring the taste that lingered on them. When he realises what he is doing, his hand speeds back to his side, and he shrieks.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Not _you_!"

He covers his eyes for a moment, before shaking his head vigorously.

"I-I have to leave... _caro Dio_..."_  
_

He ignores the large hands reaching out to stop him as he runs through the open doorway.

He had to get out of here. He had to try to bury and forget this. Because...

Because some things can never be.

No matter how much you want them to.

* * *

150)

China was glad that when the other nations witnessed Korea claim her breasts, they didn't notice that the younger man actually grabbed something.

* * *

151)

In some ways, seeing him again was very awkward.

"Papa?"

"_Oui, Matthieu?_"

"Could I have some _macarons_, _s'il te plait__?_"

"Ah, _mon fils! __Angleterre _didn't ruin your appetite! _Dieu merci,_ _m__on petit ange!_"

And in some ways...

Not so much.

* * *

152)

Prussia frowns as he looks down at the tiny child, curled up in a blood covered black cape shivering.

As he picks the infant up, holding him close to his body, he senses something shift.

Something huge.

He ignores it, and moves to find his horse. The child needs to be warmed immediately.

He is _not _worried.

Against his chest, delicate eyelids shift, and cool blue eyes peer out.

The first thing Germany remembers is the warmth of a saviour.

* * *

153)

"What the hell did you just say?"

England doesn't know what to do. All his careful years of hiding it, avoiding it and all out denying it have been rendered pointless in a momentary lack of control. All these years of wanting what he cannot have, but managing to conceal all manner of longing. Worst of all, it happened with _America_.

As he starts to tear up, he realises that his life has just gone to hell in a hand basket.

"Did you just call me _Francis_?"

* * *

154)

He wraps his arms around the taller man's neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss and running his hands through his silver hair.

The taste is addictive, and he cannot get enough.

"_Roderich_..."

He shudders, and feels a smirk against his lips. Before he can react, his mouth is devoured once more, and he can't suppress a loud moan.

A hand pulls his head to the side, and suddenly those wicked lips are on his neck, drawing out sounds he didn't know he could make.

It doesn't matter how many times they do this, it still feels like the first.

As his shirt is unbuttoned and thrown somewhere in the room, he forgets that in the morning he will have to go back to his wife, who is waiting for him at home.

Because right now, in this moment, he belongs right here.

"_Gilbert_..."

* * *

155)

When Russia hesitates in pulling back, Belarus knows she has finally won.

And yet, the victory doesn't feel as good as she thought it would.

* * *

156)

England rolls his eyes.

Yes, for all France's charms, the man still snores like a pig.

* * *

157)

"Uh, dude."

A sigh. "What, America?"

"Your notes are floating."

"Oh! Flying Mint Bunny! You brought my things! Thank you!"

"No problem, England!"

"Goodbye!" A wave.

"... Wow. I really need to lay off the cola."

* * *

158)

"Get out!" England jumps as a very French scream erupts from behind him.

"Wha~"

"Get out of my kitchen, _diable_! Before you curse it! _Sortez_!"

"Hey- what are you- get off of me, you fr- stop it!"

"_Sortez!_"

* * *

159)

"It's Superman!"

"America, what are you-?"

"And Superboy!"

"Sealand?"

"Here to save the world from Iggy's cooking!"

"... Bugger off!"

* * *

160)

Prussia tries to stop a smile as the shot once again misses the target. The look on the shooter's face is one he knows has been on his own many times in the past. He fails at his attempt to remain stoic, but luckily the blond is concentrating far too much on the task at hand to notice his elder brother's amusement.

However, he does notice it when two large arms wrap themselves around his body, and the sudden closeness brings a very faint flush to his cheeks - not a blush. He does not blush.

The hands mould over his own, holding the once heavy weapon easily, and he feels slightly downtrodden at how strong his brother is. He wants to be that strong one day. Strong enough to protect his brother like _Preussen _protects him. Most of all he wants to be taller than his brother. Coming to the older man's chin just isn't cutting it.

A voice speaks into his ear, and he shivers when the warm air hits his skin, causing goose flesh to appear.

"Like this."

A chin rests on his shoulder, as the man's body holds him steady. His brother's hands shift his grip slightly, and suddenly it feels much easier to hold it up.

"Hold still."

The blond squeaks when his brother puts a foot between his legs and kicks his foot gently to the right, widening his stance slightly.

"That's better. Now, line up the bar."

He does as he is told, making sure to hold it still. It is... simpler now.

He holds the target in his sights, and tries his hardest to keep from shaking at the proximity between them. The supporting hands disappear, and he is left to hold the gun on his own.

Then _Preussen_ speaks, and a shudder runs through his body.

"Now... fire."

A bang erupts in his ears, and with some shock, he realises he hit the crude circle directly in the centre. One of the hands return and tilt his astonished face to the side. He abruptly finds himself staring into brilliant crimson eyes, filled with pride.

"I knew you could do it, _bruderlein._"

This time, Germany really does blush.

* * *

**I know, my darlings, it has been so long, no?**

**My apologies for a mucho late update, but I just started school again, and it's insane.**

**I worked really hard on this chapter, so please review and tell me what you think. You all seem to be ignoring me and not reviewing; I would really appreciate more reviews for the last chapter as well as this one, because the historical aspect took ages. **

**So, if you like it, love it, or hate it - please leave a review. I promise you, I love every single one you leave, even if I don't get back to some of you.**

**So, yeah. Adieu!**

**P.S. I know, no more prompts! But really, I don't feel I need them anymore, as so long as I think, inspiration just comes to me! Yay!**


End file.
